


An Actor Prepares

by MalevolentReverie



Series: MalRev’s Short Stories [37]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Acting, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy Kink, Drama Teacher Ben, F/M, Grooming, Kidnapping, Older Man/Younger Woman, Power Imbalance, Probably Age Play, Rey is 17, Romeo and Juliet References, Short Story, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unwilling Drama Student Rey, ben is 30, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28563762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie
Summary: Rey is new to a small high school where the director of the drama club encourages her to use acting to overcome her shyness.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: MalRev’s Short Stories [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1201513
Comments: 124
Kudos: 466





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MurderOfCrowss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderOfCrowss/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Репетиция](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29461440) by [Tersie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tersie/pseuds/Tersie)



> requesttttt

Rey moves in to her last foster home a couple days after her seventeenth birthday. It’s a relief—and totally terrifying at the same time.

Her new foster dad, Unkar, is okay. He’s a drinker and a scrap metal guy who spends his days hunting for soda cans to recycle, but he gives Rey plenty of space. She only has another year before she ages out of the system, and then she’s on her own. Not that it’s ever been a problem before.

She hopes it’s her last school, too. All her college essays are drafted; she’s betting on submitting them without recommendation letters since none of the new teachers will know her well enough to write one for her. That’s okay. She has good grades.

Rey folds her clothes in her new bedroom, watching rain drum down the dusty window. One more year.

—•—

Bennington High isn’t a very big school, which is a welcome change from what Rey is accustomed to. She walks there for her first day, nervous like she always is when she starts someplace new, and also doesn’t notice a lot of cliques in the hallways. She did see a couple cows on her walk. That was interesting.

The mascot is a cow, too, and their colors are orange and white for some reason. Chipped orange stripes line the halls all the way to the _blinding_ orange lockers on the first floor. Seniors are on the first floor, which is also kind of interesting. Usually they’re upstairs.

She stops by her locker to put her things away, clutching a welcome packet from the guidance counselor, Finn. He told her to call him Finn. He had a _really_ nice smile.

But it’s somehow more intimidating being in a small school, like everyone already has their friendships and no one is interested in any more. Finn was nice but Rey can feel eyes on her back while she gets her things for home room to head straight to biology. Not a big deal, really. Usually she doesn’t bother making friends since she moves so much.

She closes her locker and shoulders her worn purple backpack. No big deal.

—•—

Home room is fine. Her teacher is Mr. Hux, and he also teaches English, and he seems sort of severe and short-tempered. Rey waves when he mentions her but thankfully he doesn’t make her stand up.

She makes her way to biology, which is directly upstairs. Ten other students filter into the tight classroom and Rey takes a seat near the back to stay out of the way. There are mismatched worn posters hanging on the walls about cell division and blood types and the animal kingdom, and a half-empty bookshelf with faded copies of books lying on their sides. She folds her hands under her desk and bounces her knee.

Her game plan is to become a physicians assistant, so she wants to do well in biology. Ideally she’ll get along with the biology teacher so she can get a good recommendation for college, too.

The bell rings. Rey straightens up and watches the door, and a couple seconds later it pushes open.

“Yeah—auditions start in two weeks.” A big hand slides around the side of the door, holding it open, and a man laughs. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”

A man follows the hand and the door shuts. He’s tall, dressed like a teacher: dark slacks and a navy shirt with the sleeves rolled back to his elbows. He’s wearing glasses and has black hair cut to his ears, which protrude just a little bit. Big nose. Kind of pale; kind of looks like a linebacker.

He drops a pile of books on his desk and it rattles. He’s carrying a brown travel mug that’s chipped on the edges and he takes a sip before he sets it down.

“Everyone have their homework?” he asks. He glances at his watch, not looking up. “Any questions?”

“Mr. Solo?”

A girl towards the front raises her hand. Mr. Solo nods and glances up at her, then his dark eyes flicker to Rey sitting in the back of the room. He pauses. She swears his eyes narrow, but it’s quickly wiped away with a smile that doesn’t show his teeth.

“You must be Rey Niima,” he calls.

Everyone turns to look at her. She sinks down in her seat and nods. Yep. That’s her.

“Yep,” she mumbles.

“Came from… Utah? To… Vermont.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Solo nods, puckering his lips. He eyes her for another moment, scratching his outer forearm, then his gaze wanders toward the front.

“Homework, everyone. Except Rey.”

—•—

The first week is the most awkward of Rey’s life. Her teachers are nice and everything, and Finn checks on her a lot, but none of the other students seem interested in being friends. She sits alone in class and alone in the corner at lunch, nibbling on baby carrots and scanning the small crowd. Awkward.

Some people are talking about a play the high school is putting on: _Romeo and Juliet_. Acting isn’t Rey’s thing so she has no intention to audition but there are some posters up on the walls. They say Mr. Solo is directing it. He doesn’t seem like an acting guy.

By the end of Rey’s first week it doesn’t seem like she’s made much of an impression on him. He’s nice but he doesn’t say much to her, even when he hands back her homework. Cell division stuff. Easy. It’s only September so she started at just the right time.

She gets up after class Friday to go to calculus, peering at him seated behind his desk talking to Kaydel. She wants to audition to play Juliet—Rey heard it through the grapevine. Kind of an artsy girl. Seems nice, like everyone else.

“Rey?”

She looks up from her backpack. Mr. Solo is leaning back in his chair smiling at her. He raises his eyebrows and beckons her with his index finger. He’s wearing a gray sweater with a snowflake pattern today.

“So… I’ll see you next Friday?” Kaydel asks as Rey shuffles to the front. She has her bio textbook resting on its binding on Mr. Solo’s desk.

“For auditions, yes. I’ll be there.” He folds his fingers loosely and bats his eyelashes at her, smile tensing, kind of sarcastic. “Goodbye, Kaydel.”

Weirdly, that gets a blush from Kaydel. She bites her lower lip and waves back before she scurries out the door. Rey watches her leave, frowning. She knows he’s mocking her, right?

Mr. Solo heaves a sigh, widening his eyes as he sits up straighter. He gestures to a chair so Rey hurriedly takes a seat and crosses her knees.

“Nice girl,” he says, meeting her eyes for a minute. He shakes his head as he leans back to open a drawer. “But she’s a little twitterpated. Anyway—Finn tells me you’re aiming to be a PA?”

“Um… I think so. Yes.”

He nods. He rifles through his desk and takes out one of the play posters, setting it in front of Rey. She glances at him and he pushes it closer.

“You have good grades,” Mr. Solo says, “but I think you’re a little shy. I got over my shyness with acting and it will help you, too. And look good on your college application.”

“Oh—no—”

“You should come audition. You’ll probably make some friends, and it’s better than any public speaking class you’ll ever take.”

Oh— _no_. Rey starts shaking her head, terrified beyond belief at the thought of being in a play. No way. She’ll be awful, and she’ll never remember her lines. It’ll be so embarrassing.

Mr. Solo folds the poster and hands it to her between two fingers. His eyes are penetrating as hell; no wonder Kaydel is twitterpated. And he smells nice. Like man, not like the Axe guys always use.

“I’ll write you a glowing recommendation letter if you do,” he murmurs. He twitches the paper from side to side. “I also know someone on the admissions board at Duke—if you were interested.”

“Duke? Like North Carolina Duke?”

“Mhm. And all you have to do is come try.”

“R-Really?” Rey stammers. “Are you sure?”

“Sure.” Mr. Solo shrugs, puckering his lower lip and pulling the poster back. “But if Duke isn’t good enough…”

Rey snatches the poster. He beams, letting his hands fall to the desk, and he pats it twice. Yeah, Duke is good enough. They have one of the best PA programs in the country.

“Great.” Mr. Solo drums his fingers and gives her a crooked smile. “I will see you next Friday at three-thirty, then.”

She gets up, nodding and shouldering her backpack. Mr. Solo folds his hands in front of his mouth and watches her leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Auditions are in the school auditorium—obviously. But it’s the smallest auditorium Rey has ever seen and she hesitates at the top of the rows of folded worn red seats, frowning at the small group gathered on the stage. This school really is tiny. There must only be a dozen other kids.

It smells musty and the lights are low and flickering. Everyone is laughing and chatting on the stage and Rey takes a seat near the front to wait, folding down a creaky red chair. No one looks her way as more kids filter in through the side door and the doors on the stage. Soon the group doubles in size, then triples. Guess people really like theater here.

The side door opens again and Mr. Solo comes in, Kaydel trailing behind him with another girl. He’s wearing sunglasses and sipping coffee and Kaydel is talking to him but he ignores her, striding to the white folding table to set down his messenger bag.

He rubs his eyes under his shades. Rey bounces her foot hanging in the air and he looks her way.

Mr. Solo pauses, then pushes his sunglasses up to the top of his head. Rey waves awkwardly. Hello. She’s here, strictly for the recommendation letter.

He eyes her for another minute and doesn’t smile or wave back. He sips his coffee, still not paying any attention to Kaydel, who is folding her arms and looks irritated.

“Rey is going to play Juliet,” he calls, voice lifting over the loud conversation.

Oh… no. Rey blushes as all eyes turn to her and she quickly shakes her head. No—he said she just had to come audition; she doesn’t have to actually be in the dumb play. She doesn’t want to be.

Kaydel scowls. The girl beside her scowls. A couple people complain but Mr. Solo waves them off and sits in the metal chair at the white table. He sets his sunglasses on it and takes another sip of his coffee. Rey sits and balls her fists in her lap. This is humiliating. She doesn’t want to _act_.

“But she didn’t even audition!” Kaydel complains.

“Yeah, that’s not fair,” adds her friend. “Everyone should have to audition.”

“It’s a high school play, not fucking Broadway.” Mr. Solo snaps his fingers at Rey. “Come here. You’re going to run some lines with everyone else.”

This is not a good way to make friends. Now they’ll all hate her.

Rey slowly gets to her feet and shuffles over to the table. She takes the thick stapled book Mr. Solo offers her and flips through pages and pages of confusing old English. He said she just had to audition. Why is he embarrassing her like this?

He points at Kaydel. “I gave you the lead in _Antigone_ last year when you were new. Didn’t I?”

Kaydel huffs and nods. Rey watches from under her lashes, then pretends to be busy with her book-thing. Script? Lines?

“Yes,” Kaydel mutters.

“Right. So be nice to Rey and help her learn her lines, Miss Connix.”

It gets another annoyed huff. Rey’s wrist is grasped, and she glances up to Kaydel tugging her towards the stage. Kaydel raises her eyebrows.

“Come on,” she says impatiently. She waves toward the stage. “I guess I _have_ to help you.”

Rey lets herself be pulled. Her heart pounds and her palms sweat but Kaydel introduces her to everyone else, and then it isn’t so bad.

—•—

Memorizing lines isn’t as hard as Rey thought it would be. She practices at home and on her walk to school in the mornings and afternoons, sometimes pausing to make sure no one is watching her. Just the cows. They chew and stare but thankfully they don’t have any criticism for her.

A guy named Poe Dameron is playing Romeo, and he’s nice. Artsy. _Super_ charming. Rey doesn’t want to bother him with asking to practice outside class so she recites in the mirror or texts Kaydel when she has questions, and they have rehearsals scheduled three times a week, plus Sunday afternoon. It’s plenty of practice. Probably.

But within a week of the auditions Rey is overwhelmed by the work in Mr. Hux’s English class. She’s not the best writer and he wants a five page paper about some book called _The Awakening_ : themes and how they apply to society today.

Never read it. Apparently it was assigned over the summer, which is bonkers.

Rey spends her Friday afternoon in the library reading the book and biting her nails. It’s boring and confusing and the library is cramped and musty just like the auditorium. She curls her legs up in her red fabric chair and bites and reads and her mind wanders to rehearsal on Sunday. Five hours. She’s afraid she isn’t prepared enough for it.

The doors open. Rey glances up but can’t see past the rows of high, closely packed shelves, and she goes back to her book. Edna is annoying; almost as annoying as Holden Caulfield. _Phonies_. Ugh.

“Rey?”

Her pinkie is in her teeth when she looks up again. Mr. Solo is watching her from the side of a book shelf and he has his messenger bag and coffee like always, wearing the same black sweater he was when she saw him in class this morning.

Rey hides her hand under her butt. “Hi—hello. Hi.”

“…Hi,” he repeats, and laughs. He runs his thumb under his bag strap on his shoulder. “What are you reading?”

“Uh… _The Awakening_? For English. I have a paper due in a couple days.”

“Oh.” He nods, puckering his lips. “Good book. One of the earliest feminist novels.”

“Really? Because all she’s done so far is cheat on her husband.”

Mr. Solo’s smile widens. He sets his bag down on the opposite table and sits next to Rey, and she shifts in her seat, putting her feet down on the floor. He smells nice, like he always does. Her stomach flutters when he pulls his chair closer beside her.

“It’s symbolism,” he says, one hand on the table, gesturing toward the library. “It was published when women didn’t have many options besides getting married and having babies—it challenged that, and what women could be.”

“…Oh.” Rey nods, gaze dropping to the book. “I suck at that stuff.”

“Want me to help you? I know that book inside and out.”

“Are you sure? If you’re busy—”

Mr. Solo scoffs and waves her off. He takes an iPad out of his messenger bag and sets it up between them, then opens a Word document. Rey peeks shyly at his profile while he gets set up. His glasses make him look super smart.

“This is for Hux, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, they read the book over the summer, so… I was just trying to cram it.”

“You’ve got to learn about SparkNotes, doll. Don’t need to read the entire book.”

He smiles and Rey’s ears burn. _Doll_. No one has ever called her that before. Is he allowed to call her that? She doesn’t mind, but…

Mr. Solo brings up SparkNotes in a separate tab and Rey knits her fingers under the table. She isn’t going to say no to help—especially if it means she doesn’t have to read some boring book.

They spend most of the afternoon working on the paper, and don’t pack up to leave until almost six PM. The librarian wants to go home and she gives them a glare to hurry them along. It’s okay, though. Rey’s entire paper is almost done. Just needs to add a couple things to the end that Mr. Solo already outlined for her.

He gets up first, looping his messenger bag over his back. “You need a ride home?”

“Um… I mean, I can walk.”

“Kind of cold and dark for that, isn’t it?”

Rey shrugs and nods. Yeah. It gets dark here pretty fast and it _is_ cold. But she doesn’t want to put him out or make him feel obligated to help her.

Mr. Solo motions her to follow and she does, heart fluttering in her throat. If he insists.

He drives a green Subaru, which fits the bill for most of the people Rey has met in Vermont. It’s a couple years old but really clean inside, and it smells like one of those new car air fresheners. Rey puts on her seatbelt as Mr. Solo folds himself into the driver’s seat.

She clears her throat. “So have you lived here for a long time?”

Mr. Solo puts on his seatbelt. He shakes his head and rummages in his center console for a black vape pen. He rolls down his window.

“Five years?” he says like he forgot. He takes a pull from his vape pen and Rey is surprised to smell pot. “I’ve been trying to build a house for the past few years but it’s been such a headache—feels like the universe is telling me to move.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

Mr. Solo nods, exhaling out the window and tossing the vape pen back in the center console. He turns the key in the ignition.

“Don’t tell anyone about that,” he says, smiling over at her.

“About what?”

“Good girl.”

Rey beams. They chat a little more on the short drive back to her house, and she thinks Mr. Solo is probably the coolest teacher she’s ever met.

—•—

The first Sunday rehearsal goes better than Rey imagined it would.

Poe is obliging and patient and even though she thinks she sucks, Mr. Solo keeps clapping and telling her she’s a ‘natural.’ Kaydel says the same thing.

“You’re really good,” she gushes after rehearsal is over. “Kind of stiff but that’ll go away the longer we rehearse. If you want to come over Saturday we can go over some more stuff.”

Rey blinks, surprised by the offer. Really? Kaydel wants to hang out?

She shoulders her backpack while Kaydel waits expectantly. Rey nods, and Kaydel squeals and hugs her— _really_ tight—then skips from the auditorium a couple steps behind Poe. A few other people stop to tell her she did a good job and Rey smiles and thanks them. Everyone is pretty nice here.

“Hey, doll?”

She turns. Mr. Solo is tucking in his dress shirt and he smiles when he sees her looking at him. He picks up a copy of the script and beckons her.

“Mind if we go through these lines for a little bit?”

Rey shakes her head. Sure. She has nowhere else to be today.

He gets up on the stage and she follows with her script, clutching it tightly as he rubs his mouth. He flips to a page and she presses the toes of the sneakers together. He’s wearing a black dress shirt today, sleeves rolled up, with a silver watch. His hair is getting longer. He looks nice.

“Kaydel is right—if a bit blunt.” Mr. Solo runs a hand through his hair. “You’re a little stiff because you’re nervous.”

“Sorry. I’ll be less… nervous.”

He laughs. Rey blushes, then stiffens when he comes up to her and gently grasps her upper arms. He sways her upper body from side to side.

“Just relax,” he murmurs. His grip is firm but not too tight as he keeps moving her. “It’s a high school play, not Broadway.”

She nods and tries to let her arms relax. They flop a little as he turns her and they both laugh as her arms awkwardly swing from side to side. She’s so worried about making a mistake with her lines that it’s hard to really relax. She’ll look really stupid it she messes up during the real performance.

Mr. Solo’s hands drop away and he raises his eyebrows, still smiling down at Rey.

“Let’s go through that first scene with Romeo and Juliet, hm?”

“With—without Poe?”

“Sure. I think Poe makes you nervous.”

Rey blanches. “No? No—Poe doesn’t make me—”

Mr. Solo flips through his script. He’s giving her a knowing look but Poe really doesn’t make her nervous. Kaydel likes Poe, and he’s a little much for Rey. He doesn’t make Rey nervous.

“It’s fine,” he says, laughing lightly. “I know how teenagers are. You won’t have that problem reciting your lines with me, so let’s try it.”

This is even _more_ intimidating than reciting with Poe. Rey swallows and nods, hands shaking as she looks down at her script. Mr. Solo is way taller than Poe, for one—and he really knows what he’s doing. And this whole play is about love and stuff and that’s awkward to recite with a teacher.

Mr. Solo pushes his glasses up his nose.

“Okay, let’s begin.”


	3. Chapter 3

“My mom won’t be home after opening night so we’re having a party at my place. You’re coming, right, Rey?”

There’s an outstretched feral pig in front of Rey and all she can smell is formaldehyde—which doesn’t seem to be bothering Kaydel much. Gross stuff _never_ bothers Kaydel, but Rey is about ready to puke. She has been since the start of lab.

She nods, leaning back and offering Kaydel the scalpel. Ugh. This is too disgusting.

“Sure,” Rey says. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah, like everyone is going. Poe might be able to sneak some of his dad’s liquor.” Kaydel shrugs, casually slicing into the pig and smiling. “I think he’s going to ask me to prom. What do you think?”

“Definitely.”

It’s been an interesting few months: Kaydel has become a good friend and people in the hallways know who Rey is and sit with her at lunch. She has _friends_ now; lots of them, and never sits home alone staring at the ceiling anymore. It’s hard to believe she used to be so painfully shy.

Poe comes over to their table to point out the pig’s genitals to Kaydel. She and Rey groan and shoo him away and he laughs and insists he’s just trying to help. He’s so obnoxious.

“Back to your table, Dameron.”

Mr. Solo’s voice carries clear over the chatter in the classroom. He’s leaning over Bazine Netal’s desk, eyebrows raised as he shoots Poe a dirty look. Poe grumbles and obeys, shuffling back to his lab partner, and Rey rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Mr. Solo smiles, gaze lingering on her for a minute before he goes back to helping Bazine.

Kaydel watches Poe sit and shakes her head at him, too. She nudges at the pig with her scalpel.

“So do you want to come home with me after the play?”

“I have to go home and get changed but I’ll walk down after,” Rey replies, grimacing again at the awful smell of the pig. “Just to wash off the makeup and stuff.”

“Okay, cool.”

There are only another ten minutes left in class and Rey is beyond grateful when the bell rings. She hops to her feet and glances at the door, looking forward to the breath of fresh air outside it.

“Miss Niima.”

Mr. Solo is sitting behind his desk. He beckons her after he calls her name, smiling, and Rey ambles to the front of the room. Everyone is filtering out into the hallway now and thankfully it lets a little fresh air in the classroom.

She pauses before his desk, smiling back at him. He’s been great—he helps her with her homework during rehearsal and helped her draft the essay she sent to Duke. Still waiting to hear back from them; they usually don’t send out letters until spring, which is nerve wracking. But she’s confident it will be an acceptance letter.

Mr. Solo clasps his hands on top of his desk. “Do you want to come by after school so I can help you with that math homework? We can run a few lines, too.”

“Okay.” Rey beams, hugging her textbooks closer to her chest. “I’m so nervous for Friday.”

“Don’t be nervous.” He’s smiling but his eyes seem distant and dark and pin Rey to the spot. “You’re going to be great.”

He’s right. She exhales and nods and gives him a little wave, and he watches her leave and gives a little wave back. She’ll do great. No need to be nervous.

—•—

The auditorium is empty after school: the last rehearsal is tomorrow and opening night in two days later on Friday. Rey makes herself comfortable at the white folding table where Mr. Solo sits and waves when she sees him coming in through the side door. He has a coffee, as always, and a matcha latte for her. As always.

“So I don’t get these proof things,” Rey says as he sits beside her. She takes a sip of her latte and points to the scribbles in her notebook. “I tried.”

“I see that.”

She glares and Mr. Solo laughs.

He scoots his chair closer. It’s not odd to Rey, even when his knee brushes hers under the table, and she doesn’t say anything. He’s warm and he smells nice. Getting close isn’t unwelcome.

The auditorium echoes with the scribbling of her pencil while she attempts the problem again. Mr. Solo rests his temple on his fist and watches quietly, sometimes taking a sip of his coffee—he isn’t pushy when he helps and waits for her to ask. He knows a lot. He’s really smart.

Rey shivers, pressing her knees together. “So what’s going on with the house? Any progress?”

“Just about finished. Missing one more thing.”

She peeks up at him. He’s already staring at her with a blank look on his face but he smiles vaguely when she does. Well that’s good. He got kind of quiet about the house for a couple weeks.

“Popcorn ceilings?” Rey teases.

“Absolutely.”

She laughs, looking back at her homework. “You finished it up pretty fast.”

“I finally figured out what I wanted.”

Rey pauses. Mr. Solo is still staring but she gets a weird tingle down her spine thinking of meeting his dark eyes again. She nods instead, swallowing and continuing with the proof. He can be kind of intense sometimes. Kaydel says that’s why she thinks he’s hot but it’s more intimidating than anything else to Rey.

He helps her through the rest of her homework and she manages to avoid his eyes. It’s a relief when she’s done and he summons her up to the stage. Good. Some distance—space. That’s good.

Mr. Solo sets a hand on his hip as Rey joins him. He pushes up his glasses and rubs his mouth. The stage creaks as he shifts his weight a bit.

“Why don’t we review the kiss scene again?” he suggests. He raises his eyebrows and Rey feels her cheeks burn. “Without the kissing.”

“Sure, that’s fine. That one makes me nervous, so…”

“I know.” His smile widens. “You always blush.”

“Gee, thanks for noticing.”

Mr. Solo laughs, brushing a hand through his hair. Rey huffs and flips to the page in her script. What? It’s weird. Poe and Kaydel are a thing so she’s not really keen on kissing him, even if it’s during a play.

He clears his throat. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand, This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much.” Rey pauses, glancing up. He’s watching her. “…Which mannerly devotion shows in this, For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch…” She swallows. The floor creaks. “And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim, lips they must use in prayer.”

He’s meandered toward her and stopped a foot or so away. Rey keeps her eyes trained on her script and doesn’t dare look up. This is so awkward. She knows these lines; she doesn’t even need the script. It’s just so awkward _kissing_ someone.

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.”

Mr. Solo’s fingertip taps the bottom of her chin and she hesitantly looks up. He keeps his fingertip there to keep her looking at him and the heat spreads down her neck. He’s really staring at her. He looms over her in a way Poe doesn’t and it makes her insides jelly.

“They pray,” he continues, searching her face, “grant thou, lest faith turn into despair.”

“S-Saints do not move…” Rey trails off and swallows again. Her head swims. “Do not move…”

He gently grasps her chin between his index finger and thumb. Mr. Solo takes another idle step forward and leans in and Rey stops breathing.

“Then move not,” he murmurs, “while my prayer’s effect I take.”

Her heart pounds like a drum in her ears when he kisses her. He grasps her chin and lingers with his lips pressed to hers, much longer than he should—but then again he shouldn’t have _at all_. But he didn’t hesitate; he still isn’t hesitating.

Rey is so confused and surprised that she hardly notices his mouth moving against hers. He’s talking again. Her ears are ringing.

Mr. Solo’s voice is low and soft.

“Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”

She can’t even begin to remember her line. He’s still holding her chin; still way too close. Cold creeps up her spine and melds with the warmth in her stomach: she’s just done something wrong and taboo and kind of exciting, if she’s being honest. It’s a lot to think about. It’s whipping around in her head.

Mr. Solo traces his thumb along Rey’s lower lip. She stares up at him, breathless and trembling. He really just kissed her. For real.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat, doll?” He smiles, eyes crinkling. “My treat.”

She nods woodenly. He slips away, rolling his script into a tube as he walks down the steps. There’s nothing to suggest he’s upset or confused like she is.

Rey lingers on stage for another minute, reaching up to brush her lips with her fingertips. Does this mean Mr. Solo is taking her out on a date?

—•—

It’s a quiet ride to Panera. It’s just as quiet while they eat in the empty restaurant, soft music filling the awkward gaps.

Mr. Solo doesn’t seem uncomfortable but he doesn’t say much to Rey, either. He eats his sandwich then knits his fingers in front of his mouth, gazing out the window. Rey takes sips of her tomato soup and tries not to look up at him. This is weird.

She risks a peek, though, just to try to gauge what he’s thinking. He’s quiet for another beat as an employee walks by them to clean a table.

Mr. Solo clicks his tongue. He plays idly with his watch.

“It’s snowing,” he murmurs. His eyes narrow and he takes a deep, short breath, then exhales. “Didn’t know it was supposed to snow tonight.”

“…It was on the news. Maybe a nor’easter.”

“Oh? How many inches?”

“Ten, I guess.”

His eyes widen a bit and he nods. Rey watches him for a moment before she goes back to her soup.

“Better get you home, then,” Mr. Solo says.

“Yeah, I guess.”

They lapse into silence. Rey finishes her dinner and mumbles her third thank-you, which Mr. Solo waves off and nods to. This is all confusing to her: are they dating now? It has to be a secret, right? Did he _accidentally_ kiss her or did he mean it?

She’s never kissed anyone before. Weird and sad at her age but… she’s never had the opportunity.

And this is exciting—intimidating and scary but exciting. Mr. Solo is her teacher and it’s totally taboo. She can’t tell anyone; she knows that. And she won’t.

It’s dark and snowy outside when they leave the restaurant. Rey shivers, slipping her hands in her coat pockets as she follows Mr. Solo back to his car. His keys jangle in his hand and he remains quiet when he opens the passenger door for her.

He gets in the driver’s side. They sit there in silence for a minute or two, and Rey wrings her hands in her lap, peeking over at him. What if he regrets kissing her? That would be embarrassing.

Mr. Solo reaches over to put his hand on her thigh. He squeezes, still staring out the windshield.

Then his hand slips away and he wordlessly turns on the car. It’s a little disappointing but Rey faces forward and tries not to think too deeply about it. He _did_ kiss a student. Maybe he’s confused, too.

They drive down the dark streets under traffic lights that spill green and red and yellow onto Rey’s lap. Mr. Solo drives slowly, rolling to a stop when the lights flash yellow, pensive and still quiet. Rey watches the snow drive past her window and doesn’t say anything.

But she notices he misses a turn, and then another. She frowns, glancing his way. He must know a quicker route or something.

“Taking the long way?” she asks, teasing.

No answer. Mr. Solo gazes out the windshield as he makes another wrong turn.

He drives down narrower and darker roads, moving out of the city instead of further in where Rey lives. Ice crystallizes near her nape but she doesn’t panic; doesn’t assume something is wrong. He’s not going to hurt her or anything. He just kissed her.

Soon he turns down a driveway that leads to a small cottage with cedar shakes. It’s hard to make out in the dark and the snow and Rey squints when Mr. Solo stops the car near the porch. Oh. It must be his house. Is he trying to… suggest something? Because she’s not ready for that.

He cuts the engine. Rey takes off her seatbelt after he does, watching him nervously through the thin slats of moonlight filtering into the car.

His throat bobs. He doesn’t look at her.

“You’re a very special girl, Rey—and I can’t bear the thought of sharing you with anyone else.”

“You don’t have to. I mean, there isn’t anyone else, so…” She shrugs sheepishly.

“I don’t just mean other men,” he replies, voice distant, gaze trained out the windshield.

Rey doesn’t respond. Another cold shiver buzzes down her spine and she lowers her eyes to her hands, anxiously wringing them until they flush white. Okay. What does he mean by that?

She peers up and finds Mr. Solo already staring at her. His expression stays flat as he reaches over to set his warm hand on her thigh.

“Want to come in?” he asks.

“Um…” Rey glances down at his hand and shrugs sheepishly. “Okay.”

It’s hard to say no. She gets out when he does and they leave footprints in the snow on their way up the porch steps. The snow is falling faster now, thick wet puffs that dampen Rey’s hair. She crosses her arms and shivers while Mr. Solo unlocks the door.

Inside it’s just as dark and quiet as the outside. The door closes behind Rey and she doesn’t pay much attention to it, until she hears several more locks than expected clicking into place. She turns to look, and sees the front door is riddled with them from the very top to the middle past the handle. Some are big deadbolts and Rey doesn’t think she can reach the ones up top.

Mr. Solo lingers after the last lock. He sighs, letting his head tilt back a bit. His back faces Rey.

“I can’t bear sharing you anymore.”

“You… you don’t have to.” She wrings her hands, struggling to read his tense broad shoulders. “There isn’t anyone else.”

He looks over his shoulder at her. The house is a bit cold; a bit unsettling. Rey can only see Mr. Solo bathed in strips of white moonlight dappled by the falling snow, and it makes her scalp prickle.

“You’re a very special girl, Rey,” he says. His hands slide away from the door as he turns to face her, expression blank. “You’ll be very happy here.”

Something in his voice makes her take a big step back. She frowns, staring up at Mr. Solo—and he starts toward her.

She takes another step back. “Wait—what do you mean?”

“It’s okay, doll. It’s okay.”

“Mister Solo, what do you mean?”

It’s not funny—it’s not funny at all. Sometimes he teases her when they’re studying together or running lines and she’s used to that, but this isn’t funny.

He doesn’t answer and Rey shakes her head and keeps moving backwards. She stumbles into the edge of a table and when she instinctively reaches out to catch her weight, her hand passes straight through.

It snaps in half. She gasps, shocked at first, then realizing quickly that it was made of cardboard. It’s so hard to see—

Mr. Solo grabs her arm. Rey yanks against his grip, scream catching in her throat, and he drags her in close. He seizes her by the jaw with one hand, shushing her frantic whimpers and pawing at his wrist. Should she scream? Is this really happening?

“Mister—Mister Solo!” she cries.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, Rey.” He pulls her jaw, bringing her up on her tiptoes. “You will be _fulfilled_ here. Challenged. But I promise I will be as gentle as possible while you adjust.”

“Let… _go_! Let go of me!”

He doesn’t let go. Instead he drags her upstairs, ignoring or chastising her feeble attempts to run or hamper his progress by falling to her knees. Rey kicks her feet and screams as he hauls her up to the second floor, only to close a door behind them—which he locks using a key ring. It closes off the entire stairway and the only means of escape.

Mr. Solo keeps dragging Rey along the hard cold floor to a room at the end of the hall. He’s strong; too strong for her to fight back properly.

“We’re going to learn role play this week, doll,” he says as he opens the door. Rey shakes her head, terrified, and manages to grab the doorframe before she’s dragged in the room. “Oh, don’t do that. Don’t do that. You’ll get splinters, honey.”

Her fingers are pried off. Rey is pulled into the room and the door is closed before her—but as it closes, she notices all the deadbolts and locks are on the outside. He’s going to lock her in here.

Mr. Solo uses his key ring to lock the handle. He hangs it somewhere high above Rey’s head and she shrieks and kicks and tries not to lose sight of it glimmering in the darkness. Oh no—he’s going to lock her in here—

“You’re going to flourish here, Rey,” he whispers, easily suppressing her thrashing on the soft carpet. “I’ve taken all the steps I can to make sure of it.”

“Please don’t—Mister Solo, _please_!”

“I know it’s intimidating and a little scary right now, but you’ll settle soon enough. You’re going to be very happy here.”

It’s impossible to see. There isn’t a window as far as Rey can tell, though she’s too terrified to look closely. Mr. Solo scoops her up off the floor and drops her on a bed, quickly pinning her wrists when she tries scrambling backwards. She writhes limply, twisting her wrists in his firm grasp, and only stops when she feels his breath on her cheek.

She cries. It comes suddenly, rolling down her cheeks and chin and drawing murmurs and a few delicate kisses from Mr. Solo. She can’t see. She can’t escape.

Is he going to hurt her? Kill her? That must be his plan. The people in Panera saw him leave with her; the police will come straight to his house to question him. He’s probably going to kill her and that’s so frightening that Rey cries harder.

“So nervous, hm?” One hand moves away and he kisses the corner of her mouth. He’s standing between her thighs. “Maybe it will help if we rip off the bandaid instead.”

“N-No—”

But there’s no stopping Mr. Solo. He shushes Rey and pulls his belt from the loops to restrain her wrists above her head with it, smiling against her cheek while he works and she resists. His hands run down her sides to her jeans.

“You’re working yourself up over _nothing_ , honey.” He shimmies her jeans off along with her panties and looms above her. His hands settle on her knees and gently part them. “You know I won’t hurt you.”

The bed creaks as he drapes himself across her once again, nuzzling into her neck. Rey stops breathing when his bare skin brushes her trembling inner thighs. His hand is moving between her legs—she isn’t sure what he’s doing for a minute, until she feels warm pressure against her center.

Heat flushes up her neck. She shakes her head, wringing her wrists against the belt and breathing harder. No—no, no, no.

“Shh… shh.” Mr. Solo kisses her neck, rolling her skin gently through his teeth. “I’m not going to push in yet. You need a few more minutes.”

Rey doesn’t beg any more. She lapses into terrified silence, heart pounding so hard she can barely breathe. His cock strokes up and down her slit and his hand worms under her shirt to grope her breasts but her body doesn’t respond much. It feels like it’s slowly shutting down; like the world is caving in.

Mr. Solo cups a breast in his big palm. He idly circles her nipple with his thumb. She just had her first kiss a few hours ago and she wonders if he knows that.

“You’re such a good little actress—you’re going to do so well role playing with me.” His cock pushes a little and Rey’s insides tighten. “We’re going to learn so many new things together.”

The pressure becomes more insistent. He notches inside her, making Rey’s thighs squeeze around his hips—then he makes shallow, short thrusts, slowly stretching her. It’s hard to grasp what’s happening until it really _is_ happening, and his cock slips deeper yet, and her muscles clench around him.

It’s an odd set of sensations. Rey goes still as Mr. Solo groans on her neck and shifts his hips, then he’s pushing _deeper_ even though there can’t possibly be more room for him. But another odd sensation comes: the strange deep pressure of being filled and pinned down, and the comforting suffocating weight of Mr. Solo on top of her.

He strains closer, hips coming up flush to hers. She winces and squirms, helpless under his heavy body.

“You’re my good little girl, aren’t you?” he whispers in her ear. She doesn’t respond and he hums disapprovingly. “ _Rey_ —daddy asked you a question.”

“Please don’t… please don’t make me.”

It’s gross. It’s weird. It’s coming out of nowhere and it’s making something awful even worse.

“We’re going to role play all kinds of things together, honey.” Mr. Solo closes his hand over her bound wrists, encircling them and squeezing. “Some of them will be hard, and you might not like them—but that’s just how acting is.”

Rey tries to refuse: she shakes her head and clenches her jaw and twists away from his kisses. Mr. Solo gently fucks her in the meantime, cajoling and patient with every attempt to escape. She isn’t calling him that—not in a million years. It’s awful. It’s _gross_. It’s maybe worse than the way he’s perfectly calm and only slightly short of breath.

“Come on, doll,” he murmurs, even and patient. He exhales a short, shallow breath. His thrusts pick up their pace. “Tell daddy what a good little girl you are. If you _don’t_ … you’re going to be punished.”

“Punished?”

“Mm. Daddy has a nice quiet closet where he’s going to send you when you’re naughty.”

“Cl-Closet?”

Mr. Solo nuzzles her temple, fucking her with more rhythm now. There’s a muffled sound every time he thrusts; the only sound Rey can hear.

“Does that make my little girl nervous?” he breathes. She nods hesitantly and he shivers. “It does? Then why don’t you tell daddy what a good girl you are—just so I know you don’t need to be punished.”

Rey has no idea what the closet entails. She’s trapped in a windowless room behind a myriad of locks in the middle of nowhere, and she isn’t willing to take any more chances. She says what Mr. Solo wants and it isn’t long before he’s finishing inside her.

“That’s my good girl. That’s it.” His voice catches and his hips jerk. “Just like that, baby—just like that—”

It’s bad that he comes inside her, she knows, but it isn’t like she has a choice. He pounds into her and spills and she feels the warm sticky evidence on her inner thighs. It should be exciting, she thinks. It should make her feel something other than vague nauseating terror. But there’s nothing.

Mr. Solo groans, settling his hips closer. He kisses up her jaw to the corner of her mouth, then he tilts her face toward his. He’s smiling, dark eyes hooded. Rey stares back at him as tears well up in her eyes.

“Give me my sin again,” he murmurs.

She closes her eyes when he kisses her on the lips. It feels like the first pulse of an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @malreverie  
> carrd: malevolentreverie.carrd.co

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @malreverie  
> carrd: malevolentreverie.carrd.co


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